Stumbling Along and Moving On
by fairytalemanipulator
Summary: Oneshot DHr, realistic. "When they both had children and they saw each other at the Hogwarts platform, after years of getting over it and forgetting, it was a cold, indifferent moment and his curt nod from a distance seemed appropriate." Review!


**Stumbling Along and Moving On**

**Summary: Oneshot DHr, realistic. When they both had children and they saw each other, after years of getting over it and forgetting, at the Hogwarts school platform it was a cold, indifferent moment and his curt nod from a distance seemed appropriate.** **Related a bit to Poison Kisses and Sickly Goodness.**

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He would often stumble that year, falling into the abyss created for him by the Lord he served and despised faithfully. But as he tumbled headlong into the ravine, she would catch him and pull him up with her little hands, grasping around his collar as her lips saved him again and again.

The Gryffindor Princess in her own right, she was the bringer of the Light and all that was good in their world—somehow she still failed to illuminate his path. For the Dark always wins over the Light, no matter how hard they both try, and in the end it's doomed to failure.

He supposed he should have warned her from the beginning.

She was as much a hopeless cause as he, reaching out time and time again for a change of heart from a boy who slapped away gestures of good faith before considering the consequences of his actions.

Then again, neither of them considered the consequences of their actions, or else they wouldn't be in a broom closet on a rainy Sunday evening panting and heaving against each other like there was no tomorrow.

And in fact, there could be no tomorrow, and there would not be a tomorrow for him if he did not get on with his task that he needed to complete.

So he would push her away and she would push back, angry and knowing he was using her just as much as she was using him. That's what he loved about her, the anger and violence that he put forth was reciprocated in part by her. She would not take his aggression the way Pansy would when he would make love to her in haste and anger.

But he did not love anyone. He didn't even love himself, and he knew that she didn't love him either for all her good whole words and pure intentions.

She was as much a lost cause as he was but they couldn't stop their dangerous liaisons and epic trysts until the end, until the very end, after she had given up begging and pleading and wheedling and crying.

He supposed he broke her as much as she broke him, the stupid filthy Mudblood. Her dirty hands running up and down his chest as he traced outlines of what was to come on her bare back—she could make him moan like no one else could, not even the Greengrass sisters and that was saying something. Eventually they wouldn't even talk, and he would only catch the random desperate glance in his direction before they would begin to do the things they looked back on in regret.

Then again, it was really her who saved him that night. That fateful night up on the ledge with Dumbledore, she had said it time and time again in so much rhythm that he could recite it in tune with her pretty filthy voice, he was not a murderer nor could he ever kill, and he would have been in the clear and maybe even an Order member if it wasn't for Snape and his impeccable timing.

Snape ruined everything that he had laid out and hoped for because against his every instinct and towards her every disbelieving hope he had tried to be good, he had tried for her but it was too hard because he just couldn't be something he was born to rise against.

Snape and his impeccable timing made sure of that and he was glad deep down that he didn't have to change who he was and he could continue being a Death Eater and not have to worry about a Mudblood because a Death Eater could never worry about a Mudblood.

When it was over it was just over because they had gone until the very end, until they couldn't go anymore and then she was gone like a flash until he saw her at the Final Battle. It was odd because he actually missed the Muggleborn, and every time he smelled honeysuckle his mind automatically went to the sweet skin on the side of her throat that he would nibble on to make her grind against him with those perfect womanly hips.

He would hear the chiming of bells and look around for her, hoping and wondering why he was hoping that it was her laughter. And when he saw her at the end she was in over her head so he stunned the ones that she hadn't noticed about to kill her—aghast, he wondered what he was doing and fled in his haste to get away from the girl that had bewitched him without magic.

When it was over it was just over but neither of them could forget for years how when he stumbled it was she who pulled him out, and he would always remember the wild fierce look about her on the battlefield and how he had without a doubt saved her sorry life that day. When it was over they couldn't help but sneak looks at each other in passing, after sentencing and trials and pardons and ambushes.

She couldn't help but care when he married the youngest Greengrass sister in secret, whisking her away for a romantic honeymoon and she beat herself up for wishing it was her because she never really did love him, she just wanted to be the one to save him.

He couldn't help but be jealous when the Weasel proposed to her in Hogsmeade in front of about a billion people including him and he saw the way her eyes lit up because he wanted to be the one to make her smile like that but he had never really loved her, he just wanted her to want him.

When they both had children and they saw each other, after years of getting over it and forgetting, at the Hogwarts school platform it was a cold, indifferent moment and his curt nod from a distance seemed appropriate. It wasn't until she went home that she broke down and cried because the man she tried to save had managed to save himself somehow, and he went home and cried because the woman he wanted to love him couldn't see that she had saved him after all.

But when he smelled honeysuckle he still looked around in bewilderment for the mass of brown curls he expecting to see bobbing around a corner.

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**If you like this, you'll like its sister, Poison Kisses and Sickly Goodness. I'm a fan of realistic DHr and DG, not always the fluff and happiness. Also, just put up new chapters of Pink Peppermint and Fifteen Months!**

**Seriously, if you review, I will give you an air hug. That's how happy I will be!**


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